The House Fire, Pt. 1

(There's no punchline at any point so bail if you get bored)

I was a firefighter in a past life, mostly as a volunteer after discovering my earning potential exceeded the amount the town was willing to pay public servants.

Aside: I recommend looking into become a volunteer firefighter in your community if you live in a smaller less populated area - they really need the help and it's super fun!

The department I joined in college served the entire parish (called counties everywhere in the USA except Louisiana) outside the town limits. Whenever there was a fire the 911 center would tell us where it was over the radio.

FD members carried these little voice pagers that would beep like hell when a call went out. If you were reasonably close and available, you would stop what you're doing and go to that address. If you were close to one of the fire stations you would go there and take an engine to the address. It was unorganized yet it somehow worked reliably.

One day I didn't have class and we had a call for a house fire. I was near a station so I drove there and got the engine. As I pulled out of the bay something caught my eye. I looked left and saw a pickup truck rolling alongside me in the parking lot. The pickup looked an awful lot like mine, and it was going backwards. I stopped and watched with this growing realization that this was my truck as it rolled across the lot and into a ditch along the road out front. It was a stick and I forgot to leave it in gear. Suboptimal.

But someone's house is on fire and I have the big water so I have to go.

Three minutes later I turn onto the street where the house is, my mind racing about what I need to do when I get there. As I get close neighbors and bystanders are waving and pointing, nearly distracting me from the power line that is down across the road. I stomp the brakes before I roll over this spicy noodle and become part of the problem.

Now hard braking is seldom recommended in any heavy truck, it should be noted. The logistics of storing 3000 gallons of water in a tank on wheels make it even less recommended. When you empty the tank air needs to have a way in, and that air also needs a way back out when the water returns. There's a pipe that vents out the top of the tank to accomplish this.

When I willed that pedal into the floor at 30mph, 3000 gallons of water rushed to the front of that sealed tank with its one vent pipe.

What ensued likely qualified as a tsunami for those unfortunate residents of landlocked north Louisiana who stood on that particular block of that particular street on that day.

Part 2 coming soon?